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TH£   ART   OF   LIVING                    325

and after tlie shaking on the way still retain its keen-
ness?" So Wenshui said, "I shan't try to deceive you any
longer* When I take Hukh'iian water, I dig a well, and wait
at night until the new current comes, and then take it up. I
put a lot of mountain rocks at the bottom of the jar, and
during the voyage I permit only sailing with the wind, but
no rowing. Hence the water still keeps its edge. This
water is therefore better even than ordinary Huich'iian
water, not to speak of water from other springs." Again he
said, "Marvellous! Marvellous!" and before he had finished
his sentence, he went out again. Soon he came back with
another pot, and asked me to taste it, I said, "Its fragrance
is strong, and its flavour is very mild. This must be spring
tea, while the one we just had must be autumn tea." Then
Wenshui burst into laughter and said, "I am a man of
seventy, and yet have never met a tea connoisseur like you."
After that, we remained fast friends.

That art is now almost gone, except among a few old art-
lovers and connoisseurs. It used to be very difficult to get good
tea on the Chinese national railways, even in die first-class
carriages, where Lipton's tea, probably the most unpalatable
to my taste, was served with milk and sugar. When Lord Lytton
visited Shanghai he was entertained at the home of a prominent
rich Chinese. He asked for a cup of Chinese tea, and he could
not get it. He was served Lipton's, with milk and sugar.

But enough has been said to show that the Chinese, in their
moments of sanity, know essentially how to live. The art of
living is with them a second instinct and a religion. Whoever
said that the Chinese civilization is a spiritual civilization is a